


Of All the Prison Ships in the Galaxy...

by Jade_Dragoness



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Evil, Alternate Universe - Prison, Anger, Community: au_bingo, Jim finds this sexy, Jim is choked, M/M, Non-Consensual Mind Meld, Not Canon Compliant, Not Mirror Verse, Prison, Spock is Angry, Violence, original character death, references to slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-04
Updated: 2012-09-04
Packaged: 2017-11-13 13:03:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jade_Dragoness/pseuds/Jade_Dragoness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was boarded onto mine. </p><p> </p><p>  <span class="small">Warning: Evil characters.</span></p>
            </blockquote>





	Of All the Prison Ships in the Galaxy...

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the AU_Bingo card prompt #3 - Prison.

Jim grinned through pink blood-stained teeth at the guard who’d knocked him down. “Aw, sweetheart, if you keep hitting me like that I‘m going to start getting ideas…” he trailed off and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. The throbbing ache in his mouth was worth the snickering from his fellow inmates and the deep scowl on the guard‘s face. “It hurts sooo good.”

“Get back to your meal, Kirk. Before I decide you don‘t really need to eat for the next week,” the guard growled, aiming a kick towards Jim’s side. 

Jim rolled over so the blow glanced off his ribs before jumping to his feet. He winked at the guard and sauntered over to the table with Leonard McCoy, plopping down across from him. He gave Jim a glower through a lowered brow, and then his eyes became fixated on the blood dripping from the corner of Jim’s mouth. 

“Want me to look you over?” McCoy asked casually, his eyes too eager.

Casually, Jim wiped the blood away, swallowing the lingering taste of iron and salt in his mouth. “Nah, I‘m fine. Just bit into my cheek.” It was never a good idea to let McCoy get his hands on you when you were bleeding. Once Jim had found out exactly _why_ the formerly good doctor had been added to their prison transport, he’d given him the moniker of ‘Bones’; although ‘Bloody Bones’ would have been more accurate.

The flame of hunger in McCoy’s eyes tapered off until they were back to looking annoyed but friendly. He said, “You‘re going to get your ass tossed into solitary confinement if you keep harassing the Security goons like that.”

Jim grinned without showing teeth. He lowered his voice as he said, “If I hadn‘t tried something I wouldn‘t have overheard the guards talking about our next destination.”

McCoy’s brow furrowed. He grudgingly asked, “Where are we headed next?”

Casually, Jim looked up and scanned for listeners. In prison, even a prison transport like the one they were all currently stuck in, knowledge was power _and_ currency. He signaled another of the prisoners, a female Orion named Gaila with a glorious cascade of curling red-bronze and whom Jim wouldn’t mind really getting to know better. At his signal she winked at him and sauntered past with an enticing hip wiggle, even with the hormone suppressor around her hips she caught the eyes of everyone in the room. He and Bones watched her appreciatively. 

It was only once he was certain that no one would be so much as looking in his direction with Gaila being her usual enticing self that Jim answered quietly. “We’re making a detour for Vulcan, to pick up a prisoner, a _Vulcan_.”

McCoy raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You‘re sure about that? Vulcan‘s full green blooded pointy-eared computers. It‘s not exactly a hot bed of crime. Hell, I haven‘t even heard _rumors_ of a Vulcan getting a ticket for jaywalking, let alone of one doing anything bad enough to get sent to a penal colony with the rest of us,” he smirked with dark satisfaction, “the criminal scum of the Federation.”

“I know, it hardly seems likely,” Jim agreed quietly. He tilted his head thoughtfully to the side. “But image the kinds of skills a Vulcan would bring to our little group.”

McCoy’s eyes widened. He shook his head. “Oh, no. No. No,” he hissed angrily. “It‘s too late in the game for you to bring in another player, Jim. The team’s roster is full and its half-time.” McCoy’s grimace of annoyance spoke volumes but Jim just smirked back.

“Come on, this isn‘t football. It‘s more like poker, and I‘m _always_ in favor of keeping an ace up my sleeve.” Jim grinned widely, a shark-like expression full of bloody teeth.  
*-*-*-*

The entire time the jail ship traveling to Vulcan and then waiting for the prisoner to be transported up, Jim spent it turning the plan over and over in his head. He created contingency after contingency, including the shifts in the plan which incorporated the Vulcan. If the Vulcan was anything like every other Vulcan Jim had ever met, then his inclusion into the plan would increase their chances by a significant degree. Of course, he’d have to vet the Vulcan first. Regardless of what he’d said to Bones, Jim wasn’t about to blurt out the plan he’d been crafting since he learned he’d be riding on the USS Renegade. He didn’t know what moron had decided to send Jim on a ship he’d once helped built, but he definitely owed them a bottle of Romulan ale for putting him in the perfect ship. He knew this ship inside and out and in ways that hadn’t even made it to the blueprints. He knew every weakness in the designs. No matter how well trained the ship’s crew; they wouldn’t be able to keep him imprisoned for long.

Jim leaned against the bulkhead and idly watched through the blue glittering force shield as the lead Security officer entered through the opening doors. He carried a phaser rifle, which surprised Jim. Normally, guards didn’t bother to wear anything stronger than a phaser pistol. 

Intrigued by who could have spooked members of Starfleet Security so thoroughly, Jim moved until the force shield hummed barely an inch from his nose, raising the hairs on the back of his neck. He ignored the threat of the zap the shield could give him, as he eyed the long lanky form which stepped through the sliding door. 

“Ooh, what do we have here,” Jim asked softly. 

The man looked young, although it was often difficult to tell with a Vulcan since they looked young for nearly half a century. He had the typical dark Vulcan hair, pointed ears, swept up eyebrows and stoic Vulcan expression but… his eyes… there was such a depth of breathtaking anger in those dark eyes.

When those eyes focused on Jim, he felt a thrill shoot up back. The sort of frisson of lust, excitement and fear that Jim only got when he set up a bomb to explode or when a plan fell perfectly into place. This Vulcan was an anti-matter explosive device on a hair trigger which could go off if anyone so much as _breathed_ wrong.

“Hello, gorgeous,” Jim said seriously, as the Vulcan passed right by him. The man remained looking forwards but Jim caught his eyes flicker towards him. 

The guard, who’d punched Jim earlier, brought up the tail-end and glared at Jim. Jim brought his hands up innocently and took several steps back until he was a good distance away from the force field.

Yes, he definitely would have to see about getting the Vulcan on board with the plan. That Vulcan was too fucking sexy for Jim to leave him behind. Knowing he’d rot at Tantalus V, their penal colony destination if he didn’t do something about it was too much of a fucking waste.

Jim always had a soft spot for things ready to go boom.  
*-*-*-*

“Are you sulking?” McCoy demanded as he set down the tray with his replicated food. 

Jim raised his head, sucking back his pout. “No,” he lied sulkily.

McCoy gave him an annoyed look. “Right, so you usually look like someone shot your dog in front of you.”

“That‘s a lovely image, Bones,” Jim said sarcastically. 

McCoy smirked. “It‘s because you haven‘t got a chance at that pointy-eared bastard, isn‘t it?”

Jim sighed, “He won‘t leave his cell.” He crossed his arms and gave in to the urge to pout.

McCoy rolled his eyes up as he viciously stabbed at the quickly cooling chicken pot pie with the replicated plastic fork until the pie crust collapsed. Thick broth seeped out the stabs like blood from a wound. “Even if you‘d managed to convince him,” McCoy said as he lowered his voice and his eyes cooled with creeping ice, “it really is too late. We‘re due to arrive in the Tantalus system in six days. You sure as hell don‘t have enough time to brainwash him like you‘ve done the rest.” 

“I know,” Jim agree. He considered McCoy. “Don‘t worry, Bones.” His own smile was humorous and lopsided. “The game is still in play.”

“Good,” McCoy said, taking a vicious bite from the pie. He instantly looked disappointed as if he expected it to be filled with the tormented screams and tears of his victims.  
*-*-*-*

Everything went off without a hitch, well…with only a couple hitches but nothing major. Losing a couple of the cannon fodder was expected, he was just glad it hadn‘t been anyone actually vital to the success of the rest of the plan. Jim had been damned careful when he planned out every step and he’d been even more cautious in picking out his ‘cards’…hmm, maybe chess would be a better analogy since he’d also been careful to place his pieces in just the right places at just the right times. 

The first move had been Pavel Chekov, the baby genius brought in for messing with the weather net resulting in casualties from a tornado. He was so good at computer programming he’d been able to create hundreds of lines of code in his head which he then typed into a smuggled PADD. Jim had Scotty upload the virus which was set to take down his hand-picked team’s force fields as well as preventing the computer from sending out alerts to the rest of the ship’s crew.

As soon as the blue glittering field went out, Jim strolled out of his cell with a wide smile. He snuck up on the Security officer in his block of cells who’d been warily eying the Vulcan instead of watching his back so it was easy for Jim to wrap an arm around his neck until with a sharp twist, it snapped. The crack of breaking vertebrae sounded like victory. 

Jim lowered the limp body to the deck and snatched up the phaser pistol, pouting when he saw that the only setting was for stun. He wasn’t surprised; there was no way a prison ship would risk a prisoner getting their hands on a pistol with a kill setting. Of course, most prisoners weren’t him and it took the work of seconds for Jim to break the lock on the stun setting until the pistol’s glow shifted from bright blue to a dangerous red. Jim looked up from the phaser pistol to see dark, angry eyes boring at him through the glow of a force field. 

Jim winked at the Vulcan. “Sorry, Gorgeous. I can’t stick around and chat right now.” 

“The appellation you‘re using is illogical; that is not my name,” the Vulcan said coolly. Jim was impressed by the tight control he was exerting over his voice even as his eyes seethed with the coiling throes of rage.

Jim was tempted to stick around to argue the point because damn if the man wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d seen on two legs --and Jim was counting Orion girls and Deltans of both genders in that assessment-- but… tick-tock, he was on tight schedule. So he blew the Vulcan a kiss and went hunting for Starfleet officers.  
*-*-*-*

The trickiest part about Jim’s take over was controlling the bridge before a crew member was fast enough to trigger the alarms to warn the rest of the ship of their escape. It was inevitable that the crew would catch on, so the trick was to be in place before the communications officer tried to send off a message to warn Starfleet. The entire plan would fail if Jim didn’t control the bridge. Of course, taking control of the bridge from a starship crewed by Starfleet officers was practically impossible unless the invading party transported right in the middle of the bridges since security protocols in place kept the entire bridge locked down to specific individuals. The only two people with unrestricted access to all parts of the ship’s systems were the captain and first officer.

Jim got around that problem by taking over the secondary control bridge; the one that most people forgot existed. The secondary bridge was smaller, and slaved to the primary controls of the first bridge, so Jim’s second move in his metaphorical chess game was to have Scotty take those systems off-line until the secondary bridge became the first and only control center of the ship. Then it was just a matter of locking the captain and his bridge crew in until Sulu, Uhura, Gaila and the rest of Jim’s team took down all of the Renegade’s remaining crew.

“You don‘t have the authority to take control of a Federation ship!” Captain Michael Stewart yelled.

Captain Stewart’s enraged face was hilarious, Jim decided. Especially as he turned a spectacular shade of blotchy red. 

“Who says I need it?” Jim asked amused, from where he sat on the captain’s center chair. He had his legs sprawled over an arm as he idly tapped at the control panel next to him. He looked up at the large screen before him which showed him a wide angle view of the hapless bridge crew. Jim smirked. “Just sit tight and maybe you won‘t lose too many crew. Because if they fight back…” Jim’s smirk widened with vicious delight. “Let‘s just say that the armory has a pathetic security system in place.”

The captain stiffened in rage even as his face paled. Jim mockingly waved his fingers good-bye even as he cut the feed from the captain’s end. His own screen still showed the bridge crew since he wasn’t about to take his eyes of them until the entire ship was securely under his control. Plus the captain’s expression of outrage and despair made Jim laugh and laugh and laugh. 

“Bones! Tell me you‘ve taken control of the Medical bay!” Jim asked with his finger on the intercom system. 

“What the hell do you take me for? Of course, I got it!” McCoy grumbled. There was a pause, and then he continued gleefully. “There are even several patients here.”

Jim snorted at his blood-thirsty delight. “Hey, I meant it when I said no unnecessarily deaths.”

“Yeah, yeah. You take all the fun out of this, Jim,” McCoy growled.

“Oh, come on, Bones. I did promise you all the people you could make scream after we get past Tantalus,” Jim said cheerfully. “Everyone sticks to the plan and I don’t punt anyone out of an airlock.”

“I‘ll be holding you to your promise.”  
*-*-*-*

“Kirk, according to--” Uhura said.

“Call me Captain,” Jim cut her off. He grinned at her. “Captain Kirk.”

Uhura rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Captain… according to communications, no one managed to get off an emergency call to Starfleet, so as far as they‘re concerned the ship is still under control of Stewart.”

“Perfect,” Jim said idly, spinning the chair to look at McCoy. 

“I found us perfect candidates to take our places in the cells,” McCoy said, smirking. “We‘ve just got to get the records changed to match. Everyone else is sedated and locked into the empty cells.”

“Good job, Bones. Pavel!” Jim pointed a gun shaped finger at Chekhov. 

The kid beamed back. “Keptin, I have the virus ready to rewrite the records once we reach communications range of Tantalus V.”

“Which should be in…?” Jim trailed off as he looked at Sulu.

“At the speed the ship‘s been going for the last several days? We should arrive at the penal colony in four days,” Sulu offered. 

“So the only problem we‘ve got is getting Stewart and his bridge crew under control,” Jim said idly.

“Can‘t we just leave them there?” Bones asked, staring up at the screen which showed the Starfleet officers huddled together and talking to each other in voices too low for the internal microphones to pick up.

“No,” Jim said flatly. He also looked up at the screen. “As much as I love the idea of just leaving them there until they die of dehydration, four days is too short a time window, and not all of his crew is human, so we can‘t even trust that they‘d all be dead in time.” He spun towards Scotty. “So… I need a way in. Now.”

Scotty grinned. 

“Without destroying the bridge,” Jim added amused. 

Scotty’s smile dropped off his face. “You‘re just asking for miracles now,” he complained. 

“You haven‘t disappointed me so far,” Jim said, winking at the man. 

“And I‘d hate to start now, but you‘re talking about a Starfleet ship‘s bridge. The safety features alone…” Scotty whistled. “In a high-class lass like the Renegade, the bridge is locked up tighter than a witch‘s--”

Warningly, Uhura cleared her throat. 

“--legs, I was going to say legs,” Scotty protested, looking beseechingly at her. 

Jim rolled his eyes. “Focus, Scotty. What would it take to get through the defenses?”

“Ye need someone with level A7 programming skills, if ye want it done fast.”

Jim looked at Pavel but the kid shook his head. “I‘m only a level A6.”

“Hmm… me too,” Jim said. 

“You could try asking Spock,” Sulu cut in. Jim turned to him, raising his eyebrows. Sulu looked up from where he was typing at the computer next to the helm. “That‘s the name of the Vulcan prisoner and according to the records? He‘s a level A7 programmer.”

Jim whistled, impressed despite himself. “Well, it seems that I have a Vulcan to sweet talk,” he said as he jumped to his feet. He pointed at Sulu. “I‘m making you my helmsman. You have control of the bridge until I get back.”

“You got it, Captain,” Sulu agreed, smirking at the rest of the team.

Before an argument could break out, Jim left for the turbolift. The memory of those dark, enraged unVulcan-like eyes filling him with odd delight. He was used to feeling like this only when he saw one of his bombs blossom with fire.

In order to make sure his third meeting with the Vulcan --with Spock-- actually got somewhere, Jim read every word in Spock’s personal file. It took a couple hours. Spock was impressive, with a record so whistle-clean that even reading his charges --triple murder-- made it hard to see how the man had gone from goody-two-shoes student of the Vulcan Science Academy to a borderline serial killer in the space of a couple of days. Although, when Jim read that Spock was half-human it certainly answered one question for him; how the man had such expressive, evocative eyes for a Vulcan. Then he found out that the man’s mother had died in a hover-car accident the same day he’d killed his first victim, a member of the Vulcan Council. Yet nothing in the files explained the correlation between the two events, although Jim was damned certain there was one.

“If I was anyone else, Gorgeous,” Jim said thoughtfully, as he stood before Spock’s cell with his hands on his hips, “I’d ask you why someone as fucking brilliant as you is here, but I have no room to talk. I am curious over why you were so sloppy.” 

Spock looked over at him, his expression was stiff.

“But then I realized you didn‘t kill them with a cool head, did you?” Jim continued. He shrugged. “I‘m here ‘cause I need your help,” he said staring unflinchingly into those dark eyes. “And I‘m willing to help you out in turn.” Jim considered the silent man for a moment, admiring the long slim body. Acknowledging the fact that he never could resist the impulse to throw himself headlong into danger especially irresistible when there wasn‘t a net to break his fall, Jim smiled at Spock and tapped out the code which brought down the force field. 

A split second later he was slammed against a bulkhead, a stronger-than-human hand wrapped tight around his throat.

“My name is Spock,” Spock growled. 

Jim gasped for air as a strong palm pressed down on his face, fingertips spreading and sparking a frisson of electricity through his nervous system. Then a split second later it felt like his head was going to cave in from an insanely high pressure as something large and heavy began forcing itself into his mind. A scream struggled to tear out of his throat until some mental barrier gave away. A torrent of images like a storm of razor blades cut into him, until he was mostly bleeding wounds and exposed nerve endings. 

The feeling made Jim laugh inside his mind until his amusement spilled over to the alien mind pressing against him. Pain was an old friend, his ever-present lover and his only family. Spock’s pain was a familiar to him as his own. Pain made him strong. 

Spock’s mental bombardment paused and Jim took the opening to show him his mind and his scars, his wounds and his own desire to see as much as the Starfleet burn as possible. Starfleet had cost him all of his family. He understood Spock’s rage and his desire to kill everyone who‘d ever looked down on him for his humanity, for his mother.

The mind-meld broke apart as abruptly as it began.

“Still… gorgeous…” Jim choked out past the hand around his neck. He stared straight into those dark, barely contained volatile eyes and grinned, even as black began tunneling his vision and his cock hardened. There was such a depth of sexy rage in those eyes. “So… gorgeous,” Jim managed as he pressed his hard-on against Spock’s groin.

The other man’s eyes flashed with an emotion Jim couldn’t decipher as his hand loosened around Jim’s neck. Jim pressed down Spock’s hand, holding his hand in place at his neck. 

“Hey, now… I didn‘t say you needed to stop,” Jim rasped out. He surged up and caught Spock’s mouth in a kiss, trapping the him with his legs. 

Spock hesitated for a second and Jim --fully exploiting his new knowledge his sensitive touch-telepathy-- sent a surge a lust out towards him. Spock groaned, low and guttural like it was being torn from him, against Jim’s mouth. Jim brought them both down to the floor with a thud. He worked on taking off their prison uniforms, shedding cloth around them. 

Jim gave himself mental pat as he flipped Spock onto his back. Even if he didn’t manage to get Spock’s help, this was going to be so much fun. Spock’s hand tightened around his throat with another degree of pressure.

 _So much fucking fun._  
*-*-*-*

Spock integrated so perfectly with the rest of Jim’s team that Jim spent the next couple days radiating smug satisfaction, even after Bones threatened to make him acquainted with his pancreas if he didn’t cut it out. But Jim thought he had perfectly good reasons for his smugness, since with Spock they broke through the bridge’s security system with ease. It was a moment’s work to stun the Starfleet officers before they could recover from their surprise and launch a counter-attack. 

By the time they arrived at Tantalus V, all the system records had been changed so that every hint of the new prisoners’ former identities as Starfleet officers were overwritten with criminal pasts. The embedded virus Spock and Pavel had left in the penal colony’s computer systems would spread outwards whenever a passing ship contacted the colony. The virus would seek out and change any records containing the names of Jim’s team until no one would be able to match them to their previous prison records.

Jim politely said goodbye to the prison warden and waited until the screen went black before he turned to face his team. Nearly all of them, Spock being the unsurprising exception, had smug smirks on their faces. Sulu and Pavel exchanged high-fives from where they sat next to each other.

“Now, can I kill the crew we have left?” McCoy asked, as he leaned against Jim’s chair. “Their sanctimonious lecturing about sentient rights is getting on my nerves.”

“Of course, Bones, I keep my promises,” Jim said cheerfully as he sprawled into the captain‘s chair. “Just try to limit yourself to one every few days. Gaila knows someone who will give an excellent price for those who survive.” He waved imperiously at the screen. “Let’s get out of here,” Jim said to Sulu before he turned to wink at Spock. “It’s time to have a little fun.”

End


End file.
